I Know, I Know…

Why yes, I do remember that I have a blog.

So why haven’t I been posting anything to it? Well, I should think that if a poor memory isn’t the explanation, that would be easy to figure out: sheer laziness.

Besides, not that much has been going on anyway. Same old, same old. Work, inject insulin, sleep, work, inject insulin…

My sugar levels have been pretty good for a while now, though I attribute that almost entirely to the insulin, because most of the time it doesn’t seem like the diet and exercise thing is having much of an impact.

On the other hand, I have lost about 20 pounds since this whole thing started. It’s a noticeable difference, and I look a lot slimmer. Until I sit down, at which point my stomach juts out like I’m six months pregnant.

Still, I am getting some comments from people who have noticed the weight loss, so I guess that’s good.

I know that, on the rare occasions on which I post, I keep making a reference to launching a new regular feature, but so far it hasn’t materialized. It will, it’s just something that’s going to involve a fair amount of pain, so I need to mentally prepare myself before diving in.

A while back I finally got around to reading Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, which is exactly how it sounds: it’s Pride & Prejudice…with zombies.

It was entertaining enough – up next is Sense & Sensibility & Sea Monsters – but I kind of found myself confused on a couple of points regarding the book.

First off is the introduction in which the author – no, not Jane Austen, the guy who added in all of the zombie stuff – talks about his immediate thought when the idea was pitched to him. Basically his mind immediately conjured up images of Regency-era Englishwomen fighting zombies in the style of Kung Fu movies.

Really? That’s where your mind immediately went? Because while those aspects were entertaining, I wouldn’t have automatically connected Kung Fu to zombies.

The other thing, and this goes beyond just the book, is the widespread nerd enthusiasm for the concept, and the current zombie obsession that’s so prevalent among nerds. When did zombies become such an essential aspect of nerdom? Is it because of video games? Whatever the case, I hadn’t previously realized that my bespectacled brethren were so enamored with the undead, and would have never predicted the relatively recent explosion of shambling, flesh and brain-munching corpses in popular culture.

I guess I just didn’t have my thumb on the pulse of nerdom, though honestly, who can blame me? I mean, who wants to touch a nerd? They’re all unwashed and sticky and covered in Cheeto dust.

My birthday is coming up on Tuesday. Whoop-de-freakin’- do.

However, it did give an excuse to take the day off (as well as the day before), so there’s that much going for it anyway.

In any case, I just thought I should post something. This time around I’m not going to bother promising to try to post more regularly.

A Funny Reminder And Some Nonsense

On its own, the image of actress Hayden Panettiere taken at the most recent San Diego Comic-Con, featured at Topless Robot pretty much says it all, but the added text does amplify the point.
By way of presenting a balanced view, there's this article at Wired listing The 10 Real Reasons Why Geeks Make Better Lovers.
I'm thinking the Topless Robot bit has greater veracity.

Seething Nerdly Hatred And Burning Nerdly Desires

Thinking a little more on the subject, it occurred to me that someone – someone other than me – if so inclined, could write a lengthy thesis on the gender politics of Revenge of the Nerds.
The main thing that this hypothetical person with even more time on his or her hands than I have and even less of life (if such a thing is possible) would be likely to conclude is that the nerdlier ranks of the male gender harbor some pretty deep-seated hostility towards women.
The basis for this hostility wouldn’t be hard to isolate – hey, rejection hurts – but I think that someone who has never considered it before would be surprised at just how much nerds hate women.
When I first began venturing out onto the Internet in the mid-90s, I know that I was amazed at the seething, white-hot hatred of women that was so apparent in message board postings and on personal Web sites. I never knew that there was such a strong vein of outright hatred of the opposite sex within the collective male psyche.
(In more than a decade, by the way, nothing has changed. At least not for the better.)
What was even more surprising was just how oblivious these nerds are to their own misogyny. Most of them would likely classify themselves as “nice guys,” if for no other reason than that they finished last.
Maybe once upon a time they were, but with bitterness having settled in, the nice guys would be difficult to uncover, if they’re even really there.
These are the sort of guys who might be heard to complain that, “Women only like jerks. They should like nice guys like me…the stupid bitches.”
(Of course I’m speaking in generalities: not all nerds hate women…and this sort of hatred is clearly not limited to nerds.)
In any case, my whole point is, beyond the rape and other acts of sexual assault, take a look at the role of women in Revenge of the Nerds, and the behavior of the nerds toward them. The nerds view women solely in terms of their own desires – I want her, therefore she should want me – and not as actualized beings complete in and of themselves.
Because they are only extensions of the nerds’ desires – consider the masturbatory nature of the relationship between Gilbert and his mirror-image nerd girlfriend Judy, who, because she is like them, is the only woman deserving of any kind of respect – it becomes acceptable to treat them with no more respect than they do the remote-controlled robot that cleans their frat house for them.
Okay, okay, I’m officially finished deconstructing a 20+ year old pointless movie.
However, on the topic of things that go back more than 20 years relating to nerds and sex, last night I saw that commercial for Veet or whatever brand of depilatory it is, that features Alyssa Milano and lots of shots of her legs. The first (well, I suppose you could argue that it’s the second, but I don’t think the first thing that comes to my mind necessarily qualifies as a thought) thing I thought, as I do every time I see the ad, is that they’ve done something to cover up her tattoos. I know she has at least one that goes around her ankle, but it’s nowhere to be seen in the commercial.
My next thought was the realization that I’ve wanted to bang Alyssa Milano for around 23 years now.
That’s like two-thirds of my life.
(I should mention that my wanting to bang her does not negate my recognition of the fact that she is an actualized being complete in and of herself and that she exists apart from my desires.)
Seriously, she’s the same age I am – a few months older, in fact – and by the time I was 12, which is when I would have first seen her on Who’s The Boss? I was definitely looking at cute girls my age (and older women, of course) and thinking “Awww yeeeahhhh.” Further, Alyssa Milano was pretty much what I imagined Kitty Pryde would look like in real life, so that definitely helped to solidify her position in my…well, let’s say “heart.”
(Other guys might say “spank bank,” but not me.)
Since that time she’s only gotten hotter, and my appreciation for her has never waned.
What is my point? Well, I guess I don’t really have one, but I just thought I should point out my realization that for more than two decades wanting to bang Alyssa Milano has been one of the few constants in my life.
Sad? Yes. Pathetic? Absolutely. Gross? I suppose. Crass? Duh.
Still, it is what it is.
So here’s to you – and your hotness – Alyssa, and to many more years of wanting to bang you!
Not much else has been going on in the life of Jon (yes, I know; that rhymes). I drove in to work for an hour-long training. I have another one tomorrow. It hardly seems worth it, until you consider that I can include travel time, so that actually works out to four hours of OT, which is a nice addition to last week’s holiday pay.
I also have to drop my car off at the shop tomorrow morning.
Monday I’m meeting with the finance guy to see if it’s possible to work out a loan that I can afford on that house I like. If not, it’s back to the drawing board to find something a little more affordable.
Still, it’s definitely worth looking into at this point because a. I really like it and b. the owner just took it off the market, which means that there’s a lot of opportunity to work out a favorable deal on it, as she still wants to sell it.
We’ll see what happens, I guess.

Nerdly Sexual Assault

On Wednesday night, as I pretty much expected it to, the noise of the fireworks woke me up and kept me awake for some time, though eventually I did get back to sleep.
However, sometime after midnight I was awoken again by what sounded like – though Brian tells me it wasn’t – a fire engine idling outside my window.
The vehicle was obscured by the trees, so I was never able to make out what it was, but it stayed outside my window for about 45 minutes, keeping me awake.
As soon as it left, I started to drift back to sleep, only to be awoken again by the sound of the stupid new dog yipping its damn head off.
This morning when I got home from the grocery store the lady who owns the stupid new dog came up to me and apologized if her stupid dog’s been worse than usual, as she had been in the hospital for the past few days. I’m assuming that it was probably an ambulance picking her up on Wednesday night.
I hate that she apologizes to me because it doesn’t do a damn bit of good – the dog could be heard inside barking its stupid head off even as she spoke – but I still have to be gracious and accept it and try to pretend like I don’t spend a significant portion of my time at home fantasizing about snapping her dog’s neck (which is really something I’d rather not spend my time doing). I was not, however, gracious enough to inquire as to why she was in the hospital, as there are limits to my civility.
The whole thing makes me that much more eager to move out of here, but that quest isn’t going so well, as I got an estimate on the monthly payments on the only house I’ve seen that I really like, and they’re about $300 beyond too damned expensive.
Going in to work on Thursday was odd and even more annoying than usual.
First up was the parking situation. Now that the building is essentially empty, only one entrance is manned by Wal-Mart greet- I mean, crack security personnel, and so we are no longer able to use the ground level parking lot at the front of the building – even though the lot is gated, eliminating the need for active security monitoring – which is just a short work from the NOC and park around back, which is much farther away and one floor up from the NOC.
(They’ve also limited our restroom choices by permanently closing some of them.)
Beyond that, though, is the fact that roughly 90% of my job responsibilities have now been shipped to India, meaning that my job is even more boring than it already was.
As a bonus, those responsibilities were the ones that were pretty straightforward, simple, and hassle-free, which means I’m left with the 10% that is really complicated, confusing, and full of hassles, and with the 90% gone, the people behind the other 10% have decided that they need to become more demanding to help fill the void.
The other irritation comes from the people in India who took over those responsibilities, as one of my remaining responsibilities is to help them out as needed, providing support and guidance. Providing support and guidance for them quickly turns into eye-rolling and exasperated sighs as soon as an IM comes in from them with yet another irritating question.
Then of course there’s the obvious concern that this is yet another sign that I’m on a sinking ship. To that I say, “So?” I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do about it? I’m not going to jump ship just in case. If it’s going to go down, I might as well wait until I get handed my lifejacket (the severance package).
Am I looking at other opportunities? Of course, but as long as I still have a steady income and my cushy schedule, it would be foolish of me to just throw it all away “just in case.”
On a totally unrelated note, last night I was flipping through the channels and spotted Revenge of the Nerds on Fox Movie Channel.
It was an interesting coincidence, as I’d been thinking about the movie a lot lately.
Why, you didn’t ask, because you really don’t give a shit? I’ll tell you: because of Transformers.
Specifically, some of my comments about the movie and its use of the cliché of the geeky protagonist who woos the hot chick away from her meathead jerk boyfriend whom she doesn’t really like anyway.
My complaint about the use of this plot device is not so much that it’s overused – though it really is – but that there is an inherent flaw in the dynamic, namely that people in relationships, no matter the basis of relationship (societal pressures, plot points, etc.), do tend to feel some amount of affection for each other, and, particularly with young people, they actually engage in demonstrations of that affection.
However, that is seldom the case with the hot chick/meathead jerk pairing, as there are invariably the scenes in which meathead jerk attempts to kiss hot chick and hot chick turns away, often angrily.
Now there a lot of plot-related reasons why this is the case, but my point is simply that there wouldn’t be anything wrong with showing hot chick and meathead jerk being freely affectionate with each other, and that it would be okay for the hot chick to actually like her meathead jerk boyfriend. Indeed, adding some real affection on the part of the hot chick would add that much more meaning to the moment when geeky protagonist steals her away.
Which brings us to Revenge of the Nerds, a movie which presents the theme of geeky protagonist stealing hot chick from meathead jerk, but has an entirely different dynamic from most, presenting it in much the fashion that I suggest it should be presented (at least once in a while).
After all, in this movie the hot chick, Betty Childs, does legitimately have feelings for her meathead jerk boyfriend, Stan Gable, and engages in public displays of affection. Indeed, going beyond simply allowing him to kiss her, the two actually have a sexual relationship.
(The other problem with the standard approach: the meathead jerk, it seems to me, would be unlikely to stay in a relationship in which he can’t get so much as a hearty handshake from his girlfriend.)
Another major difference from most portrayals is that Betty is that in addition to not being presented as being pure, virtuous, and chaste, is not even presented as being very nice.
In the standard dynamic, the hot chick generally follows the Elisabeth Shue in The Karate Kid model; she has a good heart and is disgusted by her meathead jerk boyfriend’s behavior, particularly in respect to the geeky protagonist.
It is, in large part, the boorish behavior of the meathead jerk that pushes the hot chick towards the geeky protagonist.
Such is not the case with Betty. Not only is she not bothered by the treatment that the geeky protagonist – Lewis Skolnick – receives from Stan, she is an active participant in the abuse.
Now the fact that Lewis does eventually woo Betty away from Stan, thereby redeeming her in a fashion, would make it seem that Revenge of the Nerds is a shining example of how the geeky protagonist/hot chick/meathead jerk dynamic should be handled.
There is, however, one minor problem with holding this up as an example: rape.
Think about it; when Lewis pretends to be Stan in order to have sex with Betty, how is that any different from slipping some roofies in her drink and taking advantage of her? Had she been aware that it was Lewis, not Stan, in the funhouse she would not have consented to have sex with him. Indeed, in the previous scene she refused to even so much as kiss him at the kissing booth even though she would seem to be obligated to do so, as he had purchased his tickets.
To me, sex without consent equals rape. Therefore, Lewis raped her.
This simple fact is not mitigated by the notion that Lewis was “good” at it, and that it is in Betty’s mind indicates just how damaged and psychologically unstable she is.
When she breaks up with Stan and says to herself incredulously, “I’m in love with a nerd,” she should really be saying, “I’m in love with my rapist,” and pausing to consider what that says about herself and then seeking out counseling.
This is all compounded by the other acts of sexual assault that Lewis perpetrates on her: breaking into her home and bursting in on her in the shower, stealing her underwear, spying on her with a camera, and making nude images of her available for public consumption (in more ways than one) without her consent.
Okay, okay, I realize it’s just a goofball comedy, and I’m not getting terribly worked up about any of this, though when you think about it, it is extremely twisted, but my point is that, despite getting some high marks for taking a different approach to the geeky protagonist/hot chick/meathead jerk plot element, I can’t really endorse it as an example that filmmakers should look to as something to emulate.
In any case, I suppose I should figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my day, now that I’ve come to realize that disguising myself as someone else in order to have sex with chicks in funhouses actually qualifies as rape. So much for that plan…

Truth In Advertising?

Sometime yesterday while on MySpace I saw this ad for an online dating service:



Because I was at MySpace, the ad was actually targeted based on my profile information, hence the "Find Singles in Leesburg" line.
That wasn't what really stood out for me, though.
It was actually one of the "singles" pictured:



The reason she stood out is that I recognized her as being adult model Sydney Moon, seen here:



(I'm reasonably certain that somewhere in the pile of digital bits that make up my largely unused and seldom looked at - although obsessively compiled - collection of pictures I actually have the picture used in the ad, but finding it would involve a lot more work than I'm willing to put into it.)
Somehow I doubt that Ms. Moon lives in Leesburg, and even if she did, it's even more unlikely that she'd have to make use of an online dating service.
(Her totally NSFW - after the initial page, anyway - Web site can be found here)
It's hardly surprising that dating sites don't use their actual clients in ads - I've browsed a lot of profiles and can't really say that I blame them for not making use of those resources.
And it's not the first time I've noticed them culling from the nude model pool: I've recognized at least a couple Playboy Playmates in the various True ads that are all over the Web with their totally un-True pictures of women who are supposedly using the service.
Again, I understand the reasoning and I'm not necessarily faulting them for trying to make a buck, it's just that the kind of lonely, desperate nerds (like me) that the ads are designed to appeal to are the ones who are most likely to say, "Hey, I know her, that's..." and call bullshit on the ads.
Of course, that being said, lonely, desperate nerds (like me) will probably still get suckered in by the pictures of hot models anyway.

No Nerdly Ambition

The Great Batman Equipment Archive

This is a perfect example of why I'll never be quite the nerd that I could be. Sure, I have nerdish interests and inclinations, but I just don't have enough nerdly ambition to be anything other than a mediocre nerd, destined never to attain the dizzying, nosebleed and asthma attack-inducing heights of true nerdom.